Moose

The frosty ground cracks under his feet
It is well fed up, low is its need
The long and cold winter lies ahead
After that, the weakest will be dead
But for now sun sparkles on the ice
The red morning sky is really nice
Steaming breath comes out of its nostrils
Soon the landscape will get hostile
Majestic it walks through the pine-woods
It's free, possesses no earthy goods
Moss, lichen will feed it in winter
Against wolves it will be a sprinter
It raises its huge antlers up high
It is strong and dominant, not shy